Something Wicked This Way Comes
by AvalonBane
Summary: What happens when the dreams of youth become the cravings of maturity? Rated M for sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Being a dreamer is what started all this. Dreaming of a world with magic. Of a life with just…more. Heroes, villains, great quests, and plucky dialogue. So much of her time had been spent dreaming both awake and asleep. It never occurred to her that she was pioneering treacherous terrain.

But soon after her adventure in the great maze, her dreams changed.

Flashes of disappearing blond in the corner of her eye. Occasionally, faint skittering and giggling in the wake of her steps. A crystal floating on the edges of all her mundane subconscious creations. As if watching, waiting.

Soon she became quite used to these small fleeting interruptions in her rigorous routine of fantasies. Not even really noticing how the crystal now hovered over her shoulder like a pet bird as she walked through her dreams. Or when she was walking down the street, and she could barely feel the small touch of a phantom hand briefly laced with hers.

But when she turned 21, everything changed. And she had a dream that would again, change the course of her life in an unexpected and magnificent way.

She's standing in her old bedroom. All the lights are out as she stares at the mirror. She sees no one, but knows she isn't alone. Slow, deliberate caresses trace their way along her body as she parrots old words to her reflection.

"Every now and again in my life, for no reason at all, I need you. All of you."

 _Should you need us_

"I'll call. Thank you, all of you."

 _Should you need me_

"Every now and again in my life, I need you. All of you."

 _You need me, all of me._

"I need you."

 _Should you need me_

"I'll call."

 _Call me._

 _Call._

She awoke with cold sweat and hot blood. A dream, slowly turning into an idea.

For the next several days, she poured over old books in immaculate libraries and dusty occult shops.

For the next several nights, she had the same dream. The small voice becoming hungrier, begging her. The hands becoming more possessive and electric. And every time she would wake up standing on the edge of a maddening precipice.

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Sarah used to be afraid of the dark when she was a child. Always having kept a bright florescent bulb in a dozy pink lampshade lit throughout the night to chase away the monsters.

But now she was an adult, how do you summon a monster?  
She felt a little silly, but the logic tracked. If light repelled them, then darkness would entice them.

In a patchwork ritual of her own design, she lined her window sills with meadow-sweet and owl feathers. And in the center of her living room she placed a tall, silver candlestick with a single black beeswax candle smoothly burning. All the iron or steel in her apartment had been safely tucked away. Dressed in what she hoped was a sensible but attractive midnight blue nightgown, she flipped off the light switch.

Shadows were thrown across the walls from the light of the lonely candle. Twisting into eerie faces and shapes that quickly sneered before they hastily vanished. It was an effort to keep her voice steady as she pronounced loudly and clearly.

"As head of this house I welcome thee, Jareth King of the Goblins and Ruler of the Labyrinth, to eat at my table and sit by my hearth." No turning back now.

A resolute exhale killed the last lifeline of light.

She felt him before she heard him, that same arrogant and graceful presence shifting through the pitch to stand right behind her.

"Sarah" his warm breath danced around the sensitive shell of her ear. "You called...?"

She was all but vibrating with excitement as she slowly turned. Looking up into a face she couldn't quite see.

 _Him, it's really him_.

In a dazed voice she confirmed, "Yes. I did."

She felt a strangely familiar leather clad hand gently graze her neck. Lifting a lock of her long, thick hair. She heard his deep, ravenous inhale.

"Your invitation was very specific. But as I stand here I see no hearth, and no food on the table."

Grateful for the darkness hiding her embarrassed blush she quickly muttered,

"Oh. Um, well, I'm afraid I don't own a literal fireplace."

A faintly amused chuckle.

"Hm. In that case I believe, I may be of some small assistance."

A sudden burst of glass and a flash of magic broke against the far side of her living room wall. A massive, roaring fireplace sparking into life out of nothing. Along with a considerable number of plush fur rugs strewn in front of it.

And she beheld the Goblin King, bathed in soft orange light. He was dressed simply, in a deep black tunic and pants, the gold of his office catching a blazing reflection. An even deeper fire burning in his eyes as they devoured her from head to toe.

"That gown leaves something to be desired."

A small stab of irritancy clanged awkwardly in her heart.

"Oh? Like what?" she snapped.

Suddenly, he was very close. Their noses barely touching as he whispered across her lips.

"You."

His arm snaked her waist like a vice as he brought his mouth crashing down on hers in a hard and unmistakably territorial kiss.

The shocked noise that started in her throat left her in a soft whimper as she surrendered. Retaliating by claiming his mouth just as strongly. Biting lightly at his lower lip, her hands shot into his feather light hair and gripped his head closer. Feeding the fire with their old battle of wills.

A deep, predatory growl rippled from him as he reached around her and lifted her by her thighs. Wrapping her around him like a great constrictor. Overwhelmed by the solid heat between them she hardly registered him carrying her easily toward the fire and laying them both down upon the furs.

He broke the kiss to kneel up and look down at her, trying to catch her breath in the firelight. Her dark tresses a delicious mess over the floor as she looked at him with eyes glazed with desire. She tried to reach for him again, but she gripped her wrists and pinned them to either side of her head.

"Ah, ah, ah. I recall there was also some mention of eating at your table. However, under the circumstances, I think I shall elect to take some creative license with the interpretation."

He slowly released her hands, but some force kept her trapped. An answering restraint also clamped around her ankles, holding her legs wide open. A flicker of confusion rippling across her face.

Gripping the décolletage of her nightgown tight he ripped in it half with one smooth motion.

Now fully exposed to him, he took a moment just to bask in her. His breath becoming slightly uneven as he smoothed his hand over her stomach to lightly graze her breast. Running a leather thumb over one taught nipple, a shock wave of pleasure coursed through her. Breathlessly moaning she arched into his touch.

" _Yes_. You will make a very fine table."

He leaned down to pay some more glorious attention to her mouth as a single finger slowly traced a path from her collarbone, through her breasts, and down her abdomen. Catching the scent, she looked and saw that a trail of chocolate frosting had been left in its wake in the shape of a simple maze. He caught her gaze and raised his finger to her lips in silent demand.

Obediently, she wrapped her lips around it and sucked away the last of the sweetness. His eyes closed briefly for the rapture of her torturous ministrations.

"Such a gracious host." He whispered as he nipped playfully at her earlobe. She small pain was lightning across her senses. He drew his long canines down her neck to the hollow of her throat where his lips and tongue came upon the start of the frosting. From there, the pleasure was simply unbearable.

Holding fast to her flesh like a starving man. The symphony of sensation continued as he followed the path down her chest, around her peaks where he wrung mewling cries from her, and down her belly. Relentless in his choice of destination.

And when he finally reached it, she was sure it was only the magical manacles then kept her from flying off the floor.

One long languid stroke from aft to fore had him groaning in satisfaction of what he found hidden there.

"You taste _divine_." Was all he said before he devoted the whole of his attention to exploring every treasure of nerves he could find.

It wasn't long before Sarah was thrashing, his arms locked around her legs to hold her in place as she mercilessly rode his face. Phantom hands were everywhere. Running through here hair, teasing her breasts, savagely gripping her ass. Feeling the velvet invasion of his tongue deep inside her was driving her to insanity. Her voice was a choir of helpless moans, babbling demands, and prayers to a god who had no purchase in the presence of the Goblin King. The crest of a great wave descending on her like the sweetest of inescapable deaths.

"Say it, Sarah. Say my name." he growled. And as the wave finally crashed into her with devastating force she didn't say it, instead screaming it to the heavens.

Limp and sated, her throat sore, the aftershocks still echoing through her, she found didn't have any more words. When she finally had the wherewithal to open her eyes again she saw him kneeling above her head with a self-satisfied grin on his face. Had he been a cat instead of an owl, canary feathers would have been sticking out of his wonderfully vicious teeth.

"Everything that you wanted, I have done. Never let it be said that I am a guest who takes more than is offered. Good night, precious thing."

Leaning down he pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. The fire and light stealing away as if it had never been. A faint voice near her ear.

 _And remember, Sarah. **Should you need me…**_

"I'll call."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the lovely reviews you lovely people! They really keep me going and give me so much joy.**

 **Here is part deux. Fair warning, here there be BDSM themes. Enjoy!**

A visor of Saturday morning sunlight woke Sarah from her deep sleep. Stretching her arms and her legs she relished in the pleasant soreness before rising. Tossing on a large t-shirt and fleece PJ bottoms she went about her mundane morning routine. Brushed her teeth with the same old toothbrush, drank the same old coffee blend. Ate the same old banana and oatmeal. She was halfway to convincing herself it had all been a marvelous dream when she saw a scrap of midnight blue on the floor by the wall. Putting down her breakfast she went and picked it up.

Her nightgown, utterly ruined. Holding it up to the light she saw the extent of the damage. Not a dream then, it had been real. But it was only upon seeing the flimsy fabric torn to shreds in the harsh light of day that fear began to take root in her heart.

Why had she done that? How could she be so reckless? One doesn't liaison with a Fae king, one survives him. He could have just as easily done this to her if he had felt the desire. And she would have been powerless to stop him, having invited him into her home. Why? Because she was curious, and strangely desperate for him. Her head now clear in the wake of all that relieved tension, she was aghast at herself.

"Stupid Sarah, that was stupid. What if he had taken you? What if he had gotten to Toby again?" She briefly considered the cost and reward of her actions before one word dominated her mind.

"Nope."

UhUh. Never again. Fin. Do not pass go do not collect $200. Quit while you're ahead. You had an amazing night and it's a miracle it ended there. Don't tempt the fates.

She angrily crumpled up the gown and tossed it into the kitchen garbage.

Time to change the locks.

With the urgency of a woman either dying or giving birth she quickly got dressed and rushed out to shop for supplies.

* * *

Returning home, arms heavy with bags and she kicked shut the door. Dumping it all on the ground she grabbed a garbage bag from the new box and scooped up all the ritual trimmings from last night. Making double plus sure that not even a speck of owl feather could be found anywhere. Taking the lot all the way down the street to a restaurant dumpster just to be safe.

The next couple hours saw her turning her apartment into the least hospitable place for Fae.

She lined all her windows and doors with salt and raven feathers. Her steel pots and cast-iron pans full of holly and mistletoe in every room. She'd had to resort to using her stainless-steel tea strainer for the bathroom. The scapula around her neck was stuffed with Red Balsam and a chunk of charged labradorite. A new candlestick made of ash wood sat on her table with an angry red candle inside. She drowned a notebook in scribbles, trying to find her right words. Everything prepared, she waited for the right time.

7:13 pm. Moonrise and sunset.

It had started to rain outside from heavy clouds, no matter. The celestial bodies still bore witness. Every light on in the house, she held a pack of matches in her slightly shaking hands.

Taking a deep breath, she lit one. A crack of lighting sounded nearby, and the wind started to howl.

Raising her hand, she lit the candle and spoke.

"The embers are dead. What I wrought I shall reap."

The windows started to shake against the protesting storm. Thunder rolled just overhead.

"My moor to mend, and my house to keep."

Lighting struck the tree outside her window shedding it of several branches, the flame put out quickly by the torrent. She nearly had to yell to be heard over the roaring wind.

"To all who seek entry, I turn you away. Old foes, friendly words. In the dark you shall stay.

I recede all invitations, destroy all gifts. Thus, with these words. The darkness, lifts."

There was a great silence. The rain stopping just as quickly as it had come. The pale orange light of sunset hitting the building next door. She let out a huge breath of relief.

"That was close, but it's over now."

Famous last words.

* * *

She's standing in her old room again. All the lights are off. Looking into her old mirror he sees no one else, but knows she isn't alone. That same presence now carrying a dangerous and predatory edge. A hand possessively fists through her hair while another wraps tightly around her waist as she begins to parrot old words to her reflection.

"I don't know why but, every now and again in my life, I need you. All of you."

 _Should you need me_

"I'll call. Thank you, all of you."

 _You **NEED** ME. **ALL** of me._

"…No."

 _What?_

"I don't need you."

A low snarl into her neck.

"What have you DONE?"

She wrenches free of his grasp and whirls on him.

Now they are both standing in a large room full of mirrors.

His eyes are hungry and feral, but his posture is defensive. Seizing the moment, she places her hands on her hips and stares down her nose at him.

"I should think that was obvious, _majesty_. You no longer have access to my person. And my will is as strong as yours. Your little glamour wasn't very hard to resist after I caught on to it. The real question is, how are you STILL able to infiltrate my dreams?"

He smiles wickedly at her. "Dreams are my domain, precious thing. Even your considerable power can't prevent me from…visiting."

Sarah considers this for a moment before fixing him with an icy gaze.

"But they are still MY dreams, are they not?"

He narrows his eyes at her in open suspicion as they slowly begin to circle each other.

"Indeed…they are."

A near manic grin spreads across her face.

"Well then."

An invisible force drives him backwards slamming him against the wall of mirrors. His wrists bound around his head by strong vines. He struggles but they hold him tight.

Sarah laughs loudly. Holding her shaking stomach.

"It would appear I still have the goblin's share of power here. And you, _precious thing_ , are still my guest."

She waves her hand over her form and her sleeping attire transforms into head to toe oxblood leather. Her hair pulled up into high and tight ponytail. A matching crop appears in one hand. He goes very still, his eyes wide.

"Using a glamour on your host. How insatiably rude. I suppose its up to me to dole out punishment in these circumstances. How…tedious." She draws the last words out into a mocking tone. He bares his teeth at her and begins to struggle anew.

"Sarah, release me this instant!"He bellows.

"Hmmm." She pretends to consider, tilting her head to the side with her finger on her lips. Then weighing invisible odds with her hands.

"No, I think I shall not. It's high time you learned that this game you play has more than one player."

Snapping her fingers, AC/DC's Thunderstruck begins to play around them.

She stalks slowly up to him, her heeled boots echoing on the smooth marble floor. His breathing gets heavier and his eyes glaze over with lust as the vision before him and the sounds of violent guitar riffs and drums seep into his veins.

She brings the business end of the crop up to gently caress his face. Despite himself, he leans into the proxy. Allowing his eyes to softly close. She pulls it back and gives his unsuspecting countenance a sound THWACK!

Inhaling sharply at the pain he glares at her from underneath his disheveled hair. There's a begrudging excitement behind his eyes.

"Tit for tat, your highness. Let's begin with the destruction of my clothes."

The crop makes an ominous whine through the air as she brings it down in a harsh swipe. His tunic and jacket ripping open while buttons ping on the floor all around him. She takes a second to admire the hewn alabaster canvas now at her disposal.

She draws the tip of the crop slowly, lightly down his chest. His eyes clenched shut in anticipation and it slides down past his waist band.

She assertively hefts him with the flat, and he gasps in alarm.

"Very nice." She purrs, noticing how her treatment seems to be affecting him in full force.

"Maybe not so willful after all are you?" She chides. She glides up into his space, almost close enough to touch. But not quite.

His voice is quite hoarse now. His eyes drilling into hers, begging, "Please…let me touch you."

She brings her mouth to within and inch of his before pulling back.

"No, we aren't finished making reparations yet. Now what was next?"

When he doesn't answer she bring the crop crashing on the side of his thigh. This time he fails to hide a whimper as he hisses though his teeth and bites his lip.

"What was next?" She softly demands.

"The frosting."

"The frosting…?"

"Mistress."

She smiles at him a little in mock pride.

"Ah yes, edibles. Now I remember. Let's see how you deal with this little slice."

He goes to reproach her, but she hovers a finger above his lips.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Barely touching him, she draws her finger down his neck and around his chest is the same pattern he did. But it wasn't frosting she produced at her touch.

It was capsaicin.

He's panting in earnest now. The red, angry welt of skin in distress following in her wake. Pressing his back up against the mirror as if trying to retreat from the sensation.

"Ah! Sarah! It burns!"

TWACK!

"What was that?" she feigns.

"It burns, Mistress. It hurts."

"It does, doesn't it? I can make it stop. Would you like it to stop?"

He nods frantically.

"Yes, Mistress. _Please_."

She giggles in a juxtaposed coy fashion.

"Well, I suppose I could relieve you. But…"

She grabs him by the jaw and makes him look at her.

"You have to keep very, very still. And very, very quiet. Can you do that?"

She watches the submission cloud the last of the defiance in his eyes as he slowly nods again.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Very well, don't move."

He clenches his fist and closes his eyes in focus.

She ghosts her lips around his jawline to the skin under his ear where the path of fire started. His eyebrows knit tightly together under the torture.

Very slowly the brings her lips and tongue down on his skin. She feels him start to jerk, but he keeps himself in check. It's very difficult to do the same for herself, however. His skin seems to simmer with tingling power under her, and it's all she can do not to moan with pleasure herself.

She begins to follow the path she drew, willing icy relief to bloom everywhere her lips touch. She tests him by nipping playfully at his nipple, his breathing begins to hasten under the test of his control. The vines creak under the power of his desperate grip.

She descends at an agonizing pace. He's trembling. Until she sinks down onto her knees, lips hovering above his straining waistband.

"You can move and speak now."

A violent shudder racks him as a pitiful groan escapes his throat.

"Oh gods, someone, anyone, please deliver me."

"Look at me." She scolds.

He opens his eyes and looks down at her. They are wide and slightly misty from the exertion she's put him through.

"You have no gods but me."

The complete authority in her voice has him responding automatically now.

"Yes, Mistress."

"It appears as though we've arrived at our next destination on your road to redemption."

He watches, fascinated. As she rolls down his pants and frees him. Her persona cracks ever so slightly at the impressive sight of him. She had meant to tease him more at this point. But she can't wait, tossing her crop to the side.

She reaches an arm through his legs to wrap around his thigh as she pulls him viciously into her mouth.

His knees start to buckle, and he cries out as she takes all of him that she possibly can. Working slowly and deliberately, savoring every inch. She finds she can't take all of him, and savagely grips whatever else is exposed in her hand.

She plays deaf to the litany of pleas and threats that pour from his mouth as she works. But she's enjoying every minute of it. Goblin King, more like Goblin slave.

He starts to buck wildly into her throat, and she holds on for dear life.

"Mistress! Sarah! Yes please. Please don't stop. Oh, gods yes, so close!"

Indeed, she can feel him begin to tighten within her. His cries starting to keen.

So, she stops. Releasing him unceremoniously and stepping back from him.

His eyes snap open in fiery outrage. Be begins to struggle violently again, this time trying to use his legs to pry himself off the wall.

"What?! No! Please, you can't leave me like this Sarah. I can't take it!"

"I'd say this makes us even. Goodnight, Jareth." She waves cutely at him before waking up cackling. She would have sworn she heard his roar of fury.

With a crowing smile she says to herself,

"Well, Sarah girl. You sure got his attention."

 **Notes: Red Balsam means 'Do not touch me" in the language of flowers. Labradorite keeps negative energy at bay. Holly and mistletoe ward against evil spirits.**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you all you lovely people for the lovely reviews! I am completely addicted to them and it brings me no small joy whenever I get one.**_

 _ **Additionally, thank you for your patience. I know this has been a long time coming. And I promise there is more after this so stay tuned!**_

 _ **As usual I own nothing.**_

 _ **Please enjoy!**_

Sarah was paranoid for a while. Never leaving the house without her scapula on under her clothes and her purse stuffed with various countermeasures and curiosities. Though for all her looking over her shoulder she saw no trace of the Goblin King. Her safeguards proving most effective. She walked her dreams alone. Felt no more phantom touches nor heard any faint whispers. Days turned into weeks with no strange occurrences.

And as is the way of the very young. After the initial wave of relief and disappointment, she moved on with her life.

What a life it was.

Sarah Williams had moved to L.A at 18 to be an actress but wound up in the whirlwind of the modeling world. Now she was sought after for all kinds of work. Magazine covers, designer catalogues, runways, and the occasional advertisement. She rode the winds of the fashion seasons all around the world. New York, Paris, Milan, Prague, Tokyo, she'd become a veteran of them all. This year however, she was very excited to be going somewhere new.

Istanbul.

The world had been taken by storm. Ottomania fashion spread rapidly from the minds of Turkish designers into the international eye with ravenous force. Jewel tones, gems, lush fabric, ancient cuts with a modern edge. In record time she was being flown overseas. Her and a half dozen other girls had been handpicked from her agency to bring this new and exciting trend to the states. Her first Turkish Fashion Week. But there would be at least 2 weeks of parties, networking, and preparation before the new shows. The first one would be an opening event not even 24 hours after they landed.

That's how Sarah found herself staring down at her scapula in a full-length hotel mirror, fraught with indecision.

She looked fabulous. Her hair was piled up into a dark, wavy up do. A rocket red dress embroidered with gold clung to her figure from the top of her neck to swish around the soles of her feet. The long sleeves might have made the cut modest, had it not been for the daring slit that went all the way up to just beneath her hip. Granting passers by a luxuriously tempting view of creamy white thigh. She floated on air with matching sky-high stilettos. She suffered for her art. And that was the problem.

No place to hide the scapula. Additionally, it was hideous from a fashion perspective. If anyone saw it might spell disaster for her career in this new setting.

Could she risk it?

She hadn't seen hide nor lofty hair of his Glitterness in nearly two months. She had expected more retaliation from him in her dreams. But they were inescapably banal in his absence. It was just as likely he'd given up on her or was still off pouting somewhere. Maybe he had even forgotten her altogether. Fae were famously mercurial creatures and she couldn't hide forever.

Impulsively, she chucked the scapula into a drawer and closed it tight.

What was the worst that could happen?

* * *

The venue was astounding. Hundreds of shimmering elites milled about the huge hall. The walls were lined with great pillars and alcoves with sweeping swathes of vibrant fabric draping around them from the ceiling. The ethereal half hidden effect reminded her of a great ballroom from long ago. There were various stations for food, drink, and lounging surrounding the massive floor with was used both for mingling and for dancing. High up in a balcony an orchestra provided the soundtrack for the event. Light was thrown off the finery draping the attendants from the torches, lamps, and flashes of a few very lucky paparazzi.

Sarah felt like she was drifting around the room. As if being passed from place to place by a mysterious breeze. A glass of wine here, a picture with strangers there. But she never lingered in one spot or with one group of people. Feeling again, that feeling of searching for someone.

A foolish notion really, she had no desire to see the person she was so desperate to avoid. But a secret place in heart indulged in a brief moment of disappointment and despair.

 _The game really is over, isn't it?_

Suddenly, as if grapping and errant feather from the air, a strong arm wrapped around her waist. Whisking her away onto the dance floor as an all too familiar voice hissed in her ear.

"May I have this dance?"

She gasped in awe and outrage and she looked into the face of a very flesh and blood Goblin King. His eyes glinting with wicked amusement at her open shock. She felt icy fear creeping into her blood. Here she did not have the power. She was completely at his mercy.

He looked very different, almost but not quite human. His eyebrows still arched slightly but were much more understated. His hair was cropped short, but still didn't lack for very touchable volume. Her fingers itched to play with the easy devil-may-care waves. He wore a tailored three-piece suit all in black. The same medallion of office reduced to a tie pin.

Icy fear turned into privately warm relief as she schooled her expression. Flawlessly following his lead into the next dance, a tango.

Let the games begin.

She didn't ask him why he was here, she had earned this interruption. And he didn't ask her why she was surprised. Any conversation they might have had played out in the steps of the dance.

He pulled her flush to his chest and cocked an eyebrow at her.

 _Happy to see me?_

She turned her head sharply away in time with the beat. _No!_

Her right knee extended forward so their inner thighs touched. _Maybe._

Spinning her around slowly, he raked his eyes up and down her body.

 _You look fantastic_

She stalked a deliberate circle around him. Her hand firm as it trailed against his back, shoulders, and chest.

 _Not so bad yourself_

The next few steps were a simple promenade. His eyes focused dangerously into hers with predatory intent.

 _We have a score to settle_

Sarah spun sharply on her foot, continuing the promenade walking with her back to him. She swayed her hips tauntingly as she rolled her shoulders in a suggestive shrug.

 _Do we now? I was pretty sure that I'd won._

He roughly grabbed her arm and yanked her sharply back to his arms. Lifting her thigh to lock around his hip, he hoisted her weight and dragged her across the floor.

Their bodies so close now, she could feel his iron will nudging between her legs.

 _We aren't even close to finished_

He continued to lead them through the dance. But she could see they were headed for a corner of the room that was thinly populated. The nearby pillar swathed in black curtains. She instantly knew his thoughts and directed her now wild eyes to their surroundings.

 _What? Here? Now?_

He lifted her body again and spun them into the meager shelter of the fabric.

 _Right here_

He slammed her body into the pillar with her legs still wrapped around his waist.

 _Right now_

And then she was lost as a kiss hotter than fire rocked her. He gnawed possessively on her lower lip. Her fingers acted of their own will and locked into that tempting hair to draw him closer. Urging him deeper and dragging her tongue along his canines.

A feral noise echoed up from deep in his chest as he reached down between them and flipped her skirt to fully open her to him. He pulled his head back from the kiss to watch her face contort with pleasure as he ground into her hard. Relishing in the small, desperate noise she made to accompany the wet warmth he could feel spreading between them.

Reaching up around her thigh under her skirt he savagely ripped off her flimsy undergarments. Praising all the gods for the simplicity of mortal garb. Quickly freeing himself he positioned just at her entrance but not a millimeter more.

 _Are you ready?_

She frantically nodded and wiggled deliciously against him.

He responded by plunging into her deep and fast, swallowing her scream with another kiss.

Sarah knew this was all madness.

They were surrounded by people. Her job and her reputation would go up in smoke if anyone saw them. But somehow that only made her feel the marvelous sensations between them more keenly. Respond to them more readily. The danger of being caught was electrifying. Compounded by the fact that they hadn't spoken. He'd just swept her up in his passion and taken her. She felt wicked and wanton, and it made her bold. Breaking the kiss, she gripped him between her legs with equal urgency and bit his earlobe sharply. Attempting to make him call out as she had and risk their discovery. She could feel the vibrations of shock in his chest, but he kept them contained in a ragged breath. As retribution he increased his pace. She held on for dear life as the pleasure redoubled.

"She must be around here somewhere. I'm telling you Paul, you will adore her. Sarah Williams is one of my most talented and versatile girls."

Sarah's eyes flew open and she heard the unmistakable voice of her boss, Marcus.

Jareth only grinned and slowed down to an agonizingly languid rhythm so her hearing was opened completely.

"She must have just gone to powder her nose. Let's wait for a moment and see if we can spot her."

He was right beside them on the other side of the drapes. All he had to do was take three steps in any direction and her shame would be complete.

It was so magically wrong.

With very little warning the typhoon of her climax took her. Her senses blinded with pleasure she had never known. She had to bite down hard on Jareth's shoulder to keep her wailing in check.

Jareth was determined to make this last. Intending to torment her with the possible loss of everything she held dear while he possessed her from the inside.

Then he felt her shivering hotly around him. Responding altogether differently than he expected. The pain in his shoulder shocked him and sent him right over the edge into sweet oblivion with her. His forehead pressed hard against hers as he too, tried to keep the exultant roar in his lungs.

For a moment after they just stood there. Sharing breaths and staring into each other's eyes with vulnerable wonder. Both of their heads holding the same single thought.

 _So, that just happened. Now what?_

Before he could think twice. Jareth produced a crystal and held it up for her in a silent plea.

 _Come with me._

Her eyes flitted from his eyes to the crystal. She stared at it for a moment, her desires and curiosity clearly wrestling with her wisdom. When she met his eyes again they were steeled with decision.

Sharply she grasped the crystal.

 _Ok._


	4. Chapter 4

**Welcome to all the new followers! And a huge THANK YOU for all the lovely reviews! The really bring me a huge amount of joy and keep me going. There was going to be actual plot in this submission, but my little plot bunnies weren't quite finished with each other yet. So below is a shorter romp, I promise next time they will actually have something that resembles a conversation. Some small BDSM themes below, you have been warned!**

 **As usual I own nothing.**

 **Please enjoy!**

When the sensation of her stomach feeling cartwheels had subsided the first thing Sarah noticed was the darkness. It was pitch black and quiet all around them, a sharp contrast to the beehive of activity they had just left. By instinct she slipped off her heels to keep from injuring herself. Her bare feet came down on a worn wooden floor. She paused for a moment trying to let her eyes and ears adjust as well. It was still much too dark to see, but he did start to hear their surroundings.

Waves. Waves, Jareth's breathing, and her own racing heart were the only sounds.

"Where are we?" She whispered. It was the first she had spoken to him all this time. Her voice, even hushed, seemed twice as loud with all the sensory deprivation.

His arms came around to hold her tightly from behind. His lips and nose ghosting over the flesh of her neck as he murmured.

"Somewhere private three days ago. I'll explain. Tomorrow."

The dark promise in those words along with the way he began nibbling on her ear sent shivers down her entire body. Everything she felt was heightened by the lack of her eyes. She turned to face him, desperately trying to see him with her hands as she hunted for his lips with urgent kisses. It didn't take long to find them, or to feel how much he wanted her as he pulled her tight to him and met her kiss with equal fervor. His scent completely surrounded her, unmistakably male and faintly shrouded in ozone and spice. It drove her absolutely mad and soon she was clawing at his clothes.

He assisted her by shrugging out of anything she managed to get the buttons undone on as he slowly pressed her backwards. She felt the backs of her knees hit something soft just before he reached around her hips to lift her and toss her onto it. She fell onto a large bed. The indulgent fabrics and pillows felt sensuous and electrifying against her skin in the dark. The mattress shifted under new weight before she felt him crawling over her and kissing his way up her body.

Her hands fell easily into their new roll as eyes. Reaching out to touch him she felt he was naked from the waist up. The smooth and strong planes of his chest were everything she had seen in the dreamscape, but so much more. The whispering power in his muscles hissed up her fingertips. Unable to resist the exploration, she lifted her head to drag her mouth across his chest, ecstatic when she felt that same energy in her tongue and her lips. She mewled greedily at the addictive sensation as she bit down lightly on one of his nipples.

" _Sarah_..." Jareth groaned. She could hear he was gritting his teeth.

Abruptly she felt the tightness of his grip and he flipped her over onto her stomach with easy strength.

Very slowly he ran his hands up her body and began lowing the zipper down from the top of her neck. The way he was taking his time was tormenting her in the most agonizing and marvelous way. She shifted impatiently underneath him. He pressed his rock hard erection against her ass to still her as he began to peel the dress off down her body. She gasped, taking pleasure in the knowledge that it was only a matter of time before he'd have to take every inch of him again. He lavished his attention down her back as her sensitive skin was exposed to him.

"You cruel…precious… _glorious_ thing." He growled between kisses.

She lifted her hips to help him slip the garment completely off of her. But instead of lowering them again in submission to him she took advantage of his distraction to plant her knees under her and raise them even higher. Opening herself to him entirely. She felt the tell tale signs of her own arousal beginning to drip down her thighs. Normally it would have embarrassed her. But feeling her body so keenly in the black only served to excite her further. Leaning into the sweet primal ferocity that was quickly overcoming her thoughts.

Jareth had just tossed the dress into the darkness when he turned his gaze back to Sarah. His eyes were not in any way inhibited by nighttime. The sight of her shapely rump being presented to him as a gift and a demand was almost enough to surrender him to the screaming demands of his own body. But this time her was determined to take it slow. He didn't know if he would ever get this chance again. So he got up from the bed to remove the rest of his clothes. All the while he merely let his senses feast on the sight and smell of her. Her arousal working it's way into his blood like a forest fire.

He took himself in his own hand as he looked at her. So beautiful and ready for him. A flash of pleasure tore through him as he heard her breaking voice pleading him.

"Jareth, Jareth please…"

Nothing satisfied him more than the sound if his name on her lips.

"Not just yet my dear. I have my own score to settle first."

He conjured his riding crop in one hand. Slowly lowering it to caress her inner thigh. He heard her stuttering breath through her teeth.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked quietly and he drew the flat of the crop slowly along her damp and tender flesh.

"Yes!" she cried. He was unsure if she was answering his question or surrendering to her own pleasure. But it didn't matter, he'd have his way.

He tapped her lightly on her exposed clit, smiling viciously as it tore another cry from her throat. Raising it further back he let it land on the soft flesh of her right cheek. Gripping himself tighter as he saw her throw her body back against the strike. Savoring it just as much as him.

Letting the crop trail across her body was torture for both of them. But he knew it would be worth it. He let another small crack echo off her left cheek. She was shuddering and twisting her hands into the sheets. The fresh wave of arousal coursing from her was enough to break his resolve as he tossed away the crop and knelt behind her. Removing his gloves.

He massaged her slightly reddened skin with his bare hands. Squeezing the two sides together, Sarah let out a sob of pleasure and pain.

"This is the peach that _I'd_ like to devour." He taunted. Leaning forward and biting it slowly.

She took charge of the situation and pressed herself back into his face. And he could no longer resist the exquisite flavor she promised him.

Sarah was so close. She had been teetering on the edge ever since he'd brought out the crop. So when that magnificent tongue of his finally touched down she braced herself to go sailing over it. But he went so slowly. Savoring the fruits of his ministrations, keeping her only a hairs breadth from the ecstasy she so craved.

"Oh my god, Jareth!" she whimpered

"Say your right words, by dear." He punctuated himself by lightly flicking his tongue over her anus. Cause an entirely new kind of pleasure to wrack through her body.

"I will be your slave for all time if you just say the right little words."

She focused for a moment. Trying to find the right words. But everything she thought of could be twisted somehow. She didn't want to lose her life here. And it was becoming almost impossible to think. In a surge of defiance she asserted, " _No._ " Before whirling around and tackling him.

They struggled for dominance and the high ground. But she managed to get one of her legs hooked around him and threw her weight against him to fling him onto his back, straddling him.

"If you won't take me. I'm just going to have to take _you_."

She impaled her self on him without mercy. Wringing a growl of defeat from his chest as he gripped her hips and met her thrusts in equal measure.

It was easy for her to take him because she was absolutely soaked. But to suddenly be do filled to the brim with him sent her careening towards the peak of her pleasure. Riding him like a race horse she screamed as the culmination of all his torment hit her like a train. She felt every tremor and crest in the darkness and thought for sure she had gone truly blind with the white sparks that exploded over her eyes.

Jareth sat up and wrapped his arms around her to hold her in place as she fell from such a great height. He was lost at sea with no hope of returning home in her body. The sounds she made and the feeling of her taking everything he had to offer was playing a symphony across his senses. Never before had a female been so much his equal in the bedchamber. And he found that while he was slightly furious with her insubordination, that it brought his pleasure crashing into him tenfold. He kissed her fiercely as he continued to thrust up into her.

"Sarah, gods Sarah. I never knew, never before. You're mine. Even if it's just for tonight. Say it, Sarah. Say you belong to me."

Sarah grabbed his face with her hands and whispered against his lips.

"I'm yours."

Victory and defeat soared through him in bittersweet harmony as he was brought to his own fall. Holding on to her for dear life like she was his prisoner and his savior.

For the rest of the night, they walked hand in hand through the sweet oblivion of that darkness. Losing themselves to each other, and being swept up by a force that neither of them had the power to fight.


End file.
